What Happens in Vegas (Stays with You Forever)
by DivineEscape
Summary: Quinn, Santana, Rachel, Tina, and Marley head to Las Vegas for a fun girls trip. Co-written with images-in-words.
1. Prologue

**What Happens in Vegas (Stays with You Forever)**

Prologue

"Nnngh…It's too bright…" Quinn mumbled, her eyes still shut. The morning sun beaming in through the window was more than enough to aggravate her; the early hours were never her favorite, despite all those before school cheerleading practices she'd endured. Also aggravating was small buzzing sound coming from somewhere in the penthouse suite, echoing through her ears. The tiny noise alerted her to the pounding headache setting in at her temples and quickly getting worse as her body slowly awakened. God! Why had they had so much to drink the night before?

Slowly, painfully, she opened her eyes, groaning as she became acutely aware of just how hung-over she truly was. Gradually she pushed herself up into a sitting position, squinting as she looked around the room. Then her eyes went wide when she realized that she was not wearing her usual tank top and sleep shorts. Stifling a gasp, she took a peek under the covers and saw that she was, in fact, very naked. Slamming her eyes shut once more, she groaned and pulled the blanket back over herself and felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment, racking her brain to remember just what had happened last night.

She remembered going to a club with the other Glee girls, and she remembered coming back to the room, but then her mind started to haze out a bit and in the fog, she couldn't for the life of her recall anything that had happened in between.

"It's okay, Quinn..." she whispered, as though giving herself a pep talk. "People have one-night stands all the time...especially in Las Vegas." She slowly looked down and to her right, and sure enough, the spot next to her contained another body. Swallowing hard, Quinn tentatively reached out to grab the top of the duvet and pulled it down little by little, slowly revealing the identity of the person sharing the bed. It was Santana, still completely passed out, her hair tousled and splayed in dark waves all over the pillows. Her mouth was slightly parted and there were lipstick stains all over her face. Quinn to laughed softly at the sight, rolling her eyes.

"What the fuck were we doing last night?"

She let out a sigh of relief, happy that at least it wasn't some stranger lying next to her, but also a little sad that she couldn't remember the sex because she'd been so intoxicated the night before. The night of Mr. Schuester's failed wedding was one she could never forget; she had always longed for a repeat, and what a bummer it was to know that it had apparently happened again at last, yet she couldn't remember a damned thing.

She turned her head, wincing in pain, to glance at the nightstand, happy to see that drunk Quinn had at least been smart enough to leave a bottle of water and several aspirin there. She leaned over to reach for the pills and the bottle, her fingertips brushing at the edges of the bottle - and abruptly, her hand came to a complete stop, her eyes widening with disbelief at the sight of something shiny glinting on one of her fingers.

"No, no, no." Quinn whispered, shaking her head and blinking rapidly. She slowly pulled her left hand back, focusing with some difficulty on the shiny thing that wasn't there the night before…or ever. "It's probably just a joke. I was drunk," she reasoned as she examined the wedding ring sitting comfortably on her third finger. "Really drunk. There…there's just no way -"

"S' too bright," Santana mumbled suddenly, her voice soft, yet entirely too loud in the quiet of the room, diverting Quinn's attention from her discovery. She turned to watch as Santana rolled over onto her stomach, the picture of what must have happened the previous night becoming horrifyingly clear in her mind.

Both of her hands flew up to clasp tightly over her mouth. Her eyes bulged out as her stomach twisted itself into a hard knot. The remnants of whatever alcohol she'd consumed bubbled and rose up through her esophagus as she read the words scrawled - in her own handwriting, no less - upon Santana's back in bright hot pink lipstick:

'Just Married!'

* * *

 **A/N: This is a collaboration with images-in-words **


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Quinn uncharacteristically bounced in place as she rode the elevator up to the floor where Kurt, Santana and Rachel's loft was, eager to greet her friends and share the big news about how one of her favorite uncles had gifted her the greatest graduation present ever. She laughed and shook her head at the memory of that surprise phone call; she'd been a little shocked to hear her father's brother on the other line. He was the uncle that she and her sister weren't allowed to speak to or even mention around the house because he was gay. As far as her father was concerned, the man didn't exist. It wasn't until she'd left Lima and made the move to Connecticut to attend Yale that she'd begun to develop a relationship with Uncle Richard, and they'd become close very quickly, making her regret all those years of not knowing him when she'd been growing up.

Her uncle had sent a card to congratulate her back when she was accepted into the university (she assumed someone in the family had told him about it), and she'd been lucky to intercept it before her parents had gotten the mail that day. Ever since then, Quinn had kept in contact with him, and now the present he'd given her not only represented the close bond they had established through her time at Yale, but, as he wryly admitted, the gift was also meant to spite Quinn's father as well, just a little. Quinn had laughed when she heard that little bit of information, and honestly, she couldn't blame him.

When the elevator doors opened, Quinn quickly exited and made her way down the hall, coming to a stop in front of the giant loft door. She raised her hand to knock, but before her fist even made contact, it slid open and there was Rachel Berry standing on the other side and smiling her famous thousand-watt smile.

"Quinn!" Rachel exclaimed, immediately opening her arms and stepping forward to wrap her up in a tight embrace. "You're here!"

Quinn playfully rolled her eyes, letting her arms circle around her friend's petite frame, gently squeezing her close. "Hi, Rachel. It's good to see you again," she said with a smile, relishing the warm embrace. Even though she had moved away from her past and Lima these past few years, she still took great pleasure in seeing her old high school friends, especially Rachel and Santana. "It's not like we haven't seen each other in a long time, though. I mean, you were just at my graduation ceremony last month," she teased.

Rachel pulled back, giving her a knowing look. "A month is still an extremely long wait to see your best friend. We may keep in contact via text and phone calls, but I much prefer seeing you in person."

Quinn laughed at the tiny brunette's serious expression, nodding her agreement. As she stepped inside the loft, allowing Rachel to slide the door closed behind her, she asked, "Are Kurt and Santana around? I have some news to share."

"Oh? There's news?" Rachel smiled, taking Quinn's coat and draping it casually over the couch. "Kurt is working and Santana is hung-over…in my room. Because of course she couldn't make it to her own room before she passed out."

"It's definitely exciting news. I had hoped to share it with Kurt too, but I guess I'll have to talk with him later," Quinn said as she made her way to the small living room area and sat in one of the beat-up but charming chairs that dominated the space. Her gaze turned in the direction of Rachel's room, where Santana was apparently asleep. Questions came to the front of her mind, ones she wanted answered. She turned to face Rachel once more, trying to be casual as she asked in what she hoped was an even tone, "Is she still trying to get over Dani?"

"Yes," Rachel answered from the kitchen, where she'd gone in search of beverages for herself and Quinn. "She's not as bad as when she and Brittany split up for good, but still - when she roams the loft at all hours of the night, beyond drunk, and then climbs into my bed, it's more than a little alarming."

"She sleeps with you?" Quinn asked, a flash of jealousy scalding the pit of her stomach like acid. She knew it was ridiculous to feel that way, but she couldn't help it.

"When she's intoxicated." Rachel replied quickly with her cheeks burning a bright red. "We don't do anything intimate! I mean, not unless you consider being spooned intimate, but honestly, I think it's just Santana searching for comfort. And anyway –"

"Would you two megaphones keep it down?" Santana ordered, emerging from the bedroom in nothing but boy shorts and a bra, her makeup still dark around her eyes and her hair tousled. "You're louder than Sue Sylvester on game day."

"Wow, San...look what the cat dragged in," Quinn joked as she looked her friend and fellow former cheerleader up and down. If she was being honest, though, the small dig was meant to mask the little bit of envy she felt towards Rachel at that moment, because if Santana crawled into her bed in the middle of the night, she would have let her do more than just spoon her. Even in her hung-over state, Santana Lopez was still something to be desired.

"Look at you - what, did you dress yourself in the dark, Q?" Santana shot back, plopping herself down on the couch. "Rachel, would you do me a favor and get me some water?"

Rachel sighed, but complied with Santana's request, reaching back into the refrigerator to grab a third bottle of water. When she got to the living area, she handed a bottle of water to each of her friends and then sat herself in one of the other chairs. "So, Quinn, you said you had news to share…or are we waiting for Kurt?"

Quinn took a small sip of the cold water, then began, "I guess it won't hurt to share it with the two of you now. I don't think I could wait until Kurt got back, anyway."

Santana groaned softly, her normally lovely face screwed up in an expression of profound discomfort. She had one eye open and one eye closed, lips downturned in a grimace. Quinn stifled a chuckle at the way she looked, realizing that her friend was not feeling well at all, and that she was making a supreme effort just to remain awake at this point.

"Okay, Q. But could you please inform us, you know...quietly? God, it feels like Dave Karofsky and Lauren Zizes are tap-dancing on my brain," Santana groaned, her head lolling back on her supple neck, an arm draped across her forehead. "With fucking boots on."

As if on cue, Rachel reappeared with the glass of water her roommate had requested in one hand, and several tablets of pain reliever in the other. Santana managed a faint smile when she saw the little white tablets in the palm of Rachel's small hand.

"Oh thank you God," she said, gratefully accepting the water and the pills. "I mean, Rachel. Don't get them confused, tiny."

Rachel exchanged a look with Quinn; both were trying very hard to keep straight faces, not wanting to laugh at their friend's sad predicament.

"I would never," Rachel said finally, turning her attention from Quinn and back to Santana. "My ego may be large, but it's not that large."

"Only because this is a really small apartment," Santana jibed, winking at Quinn before she tossed the pills into her mouth and took a healthy swig of the water. "Ahh!" she exclaimed, enjoying the feel of the cold water as it soothed her dry lips and parched throat. "Now, what's this big news you're dying to tell us, Q? It better be worth staying awake for, unlike the endless line readings Thumbelina over here keeps subjecting us to every day and night."

Rachel glared at Santana, opening her mouth to unleash a tart reply; but before she could say anything, Quinn alertly cut her off with a curious question.

"Have you ever been to Las Vegas?"

Now Rachel's gaze swung back to Quinn, her eyes wide. "You know we haven't," she said. "Why do you ask?"

"Please don't tell us you've fallen for an Elvis impersonator and you're planning to elope," Santana cracked. "You know an imitation is never as good as the real thing. Just ask Kitty Wilde about that."

Quinn laughed, feeling too good to acknowledge the dig about her 'mini-me' back home in Lima. "No, Santana. I've told you about my uncle Richard, right?"

"The one nobody else in your family speaks to because they're afraid they'll catch 'the gay' or something?"

"That's him. Well, I don't know if I ever told you how he managed to make his own fortune, despite being disowned by my grandparents and ostracized by my father, but that's another story." Quinn smiled at the genuinely impressed looks on her friends' faces at this revelation. "Anyway, when he called me before my graduation, he told me he'd decided to give me a present. One that my father would definitely not approve of."

"A lifetime supply of pink hair coloring, in case you ever decide to reunite with the Skanks?"

"Santana, hush!" Rachel admonished, getting up from her chair to slap at her roommate's arm. "Honestly, does the snark ever stop with you?"

"Nope."

Quinn fixed her former Cheerios co-captain with an icy stare, pleased when she saw Santana wince at a second light smack in the same spot. "Thank you, Rachel. Now, to answer your question: no, he didn't give me a lifetime supply of hair coloring. He gave me something much better."

"Well, what is it, Q? Spit it out already. The suspense is literally killing me," Santana said, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose with two fingers. "If this doesn't get more interesting in about two seconds, I'm going the fuck back to bed."

Rachel gasped. Her deep brown eyes suddenly lit up, a wide smile blossoming across her face. "Oh my God, Quinn! I know! I know what it is!" She clapped her hands excitedly. "This is so amazing!"

Quinn laughed as Santana stared in confusion. "Hold up. What am I missing? What the hell are you two laughing about?"

"We're going to Sin City, Satan," Quinn said simply, her hazel eyes shining with anticipation. "So whenever you get over your hangover, start packing a bag."

Despite her headache, Santana's eyes popped open wide in stunned disbelief. She leaned forward on the couch, her eyes locked with Quinn's. "You fuckin' with me, Q? Women practically walk around naked in Vegas."

Quinn and Rachel both rolled their eyes at the same time, but the blonde didn't hesitate to answer. "I'm not fuckin' with you, Santana." She looked back at Rachel, "It's short notice though, this weekend. My uncle was able to book the penthouse at Caesars. All expenses paid. That means everything - and I mean everything - is free."

Santana held up her hand, "Nothing is short notice when you're going to Vegas and staying in a penthouse."

Rachel smiled brightly as she eagerly nodded, her little body quivering with excitement. "I think I can manage to slip away for a few days as well." Her smile then faltered a little as she realized something. "I'm not sure I can say the same for Kurt though. He mentioned something about going out of town for work with Isabel."

Quinn pursed her lips disappointedly, but nodded in understanding. "Okay. Well, I have two extra plane tickets. I was going to invite Kurt and Tina as well, but if you know anyone else who would like to join us, feel free to contact them."

Santana slowly stood up, wobbling a little despite the fact that between the pain reliever and the good news that Quinn had just delivered, she was starting to feel better.

"I'm going to let you two figure that out while I sleep off the rest of this hangover," she announced. "Quinn, let your uncle know he has a special place in my heart for allowing me this opportunity." She paused, lost in momentary thought, before she spoke again. "I wonder how much money I could turn into one dollar bills for the strip clubs without Papi asking any questions about the withdrawal at the bank."

With that, she headed back to Rachel's bedroom, then stopped and turned back to her friends, unable to resist getting in one more snarky remark.

"And just think - even you two have a better than even chance of getting laid!"

Quinn rolled her eyes, but said nothing in reply. Instead, she just watched as Santana disappeared into the bedroom before looking at Rachel with a wry smile, almost feeling ashamed as she said, "And I have a crush on her why?"

Rachel laughed at the remark, sinking down on the couch next to Quinn, playfully swatting her arm. "I still can't figure that out, but hey - you know what they say: What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas...maybe you two will have a repeat rendezvous?"

Quinn took a small breath, let it out in a short exhale. "Santana seems to be enjoying being single these days."

"You're single too, Quinn." Rachel smiled, nudging her in the ribs. "Oh! Since Kurt won't be available, I do have someone else in mind."

* * *

"Rachel!" Quinn hissed, marching over to the petite brunette, who was coming back from one of the airport shops, flipping through a magazine as she made her way back over to the gate.

Rachel immediately looked up, the aggrieved tone of Quinn's voice catching her off guard. "What's the matter, Quinn?"

"I totally understand you've become close friends with Marley since she moved to New York, and I don't mind that you invited her, but I wasn't exactly expecting to see Santana practically drooling all over her."

Rachel was just as surprised as Quinn when she let her eyes follow the blonde's over to the where Santana and Marley were laughing together, their bodies leaning towards each other rather closely.

"That's odd," Rachel said with a curious lilt to her voice. "I would have thought Marley would remind Santana too much of Dani for her to..."

The proverbial light bulb went on over her head as she realized what was happening.

"Beautiful...check. Brunette...check. Lovely singing voice...check. Artistic, whimsical temperament? Check." Rachel blushed in embarrassment as one hand came up to cover her mouth. "Clearly, I did not think this through." Her hand fell as she turned her gaze to Quinn and away from Santana and Marley, who were laughing and smiling and touching as though they'd been friends - and maybe more - forever.

"I am so sorry, Quinn. Honestly, I didn't see this coming," Rachel quietly admitted. "I mean, I know you still have...feelings...for Santana."

Quinn shook her head. "It's not your fault, Rachel. Santana's always been a player, especially after she breaks up with someone. I don't have to remind you what she was like after she and Brittany finally split for good."

"Please don't. I'm still trying to forget all the times I walked in on her with some cheap tart she'd picked up in a bar somewhere - and all the bottles of even cheaper liquor I had to pick up all over the apartment."

"And it's not like I've ever been brave enough to tell her how I feel," Quinn sighed, finally tearing her gaze away from Marley and Santana to look Rachel in the eye. "Ever since that time at Mr. Schue's almost-wedding, I...I haven't been able to get the memory of that night - and morning - out of my mind. She was so kind, and so gentle, right when I was feeling the worst I've ever felt about myself, and for so long after that, too."

Rachel gave her a gentle, sympathetic smile. "I remember. And then you were slapping each other in the face again."

"That's us. They call that 'sublimation' in Psych 101. I don't know if you took that course at NYADA," Quinn teased. "If we weren't thinking about jumping each other, we were thinking of punching each other's lights out."

Laughing, Rachel took her best friend's hands in her own, giving them a light squeeze. Then her eyes turned soft, her expression gentle but serious. "But maybe...maybe now you might have a chance to change things with her? It's never too late to find love, Quinn."

"In Las Vegas? With Marley along? And showgirls and strippers everywhere you turn?" Quinn scoffed. "Somehow, I don't think so."

Just as Rachel was about to reply, she caught sight of another familiar face, the last of their group to arrive. She broke into a wide grin, squealing with delight. Quinn turned around to see Tina walking towards them with a large bag slung over one shoulder and a happy smile on her face.

"Hey, Tina,' Quinn said as the beaming Asian girl came up to them with her arms outstretched for a hug. Rachel hugged Tina first, and then Quinn laughed with her as they embraced. "I haven't seen you since last summer's Glee Club reunion at Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury's house."

"Hi, Quinn. Thanks for letting me tag along with you guys. And congratulations on graduating from Yale. I'm sorry I wasn't able to make it to the ceremony, though."

Quinn shook her head, her previous moment of upset all but forgotten. "I know you were there in spirit. The flowers you sent were lovely, by the way."

Rachel called out to the two members of the group who were still seated, and still so lost in their own little world that they'd been completely oblivious to Tina's arrival. "Hey, Santana! Marley! Come say 'hi' to Tina!"

They looked at her, blinking owlishly for a moment, and then at Tina. It took a moment for their friend's arrival to register, and then they leapt out of their seats and came rushing over to greet her, laughing uproariously as they pounced on Tina with a series of massive hugs.

"Hey, Asian Persuasion," Santana said. "Looking good. Not so vampire-y these days."

"Oh, come on, Santana," laughed Marley. "She left that whole Goth thing behind a long time ago."

"Yeah, but I'll bet Principal Figgins is still having nightmares over it."

Rachel beamed as her friends chatted amiably, hugging each other again as they reconnected. "Oh, you guys," she sniffled, her eyes filling with happy tears. "This is going to be the best trip ever!"

She had no idea how true her words were actually going to turn out to be.

* * *

 **Thank you so much to everyone who read, reviewed, added to favourites and followed - it means a lot. :)**

 **More fun to come!**


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Marley, are you all right?" Rachel asked with a smile as she watched the youngest member of their group fiddle with her belt buckle, tightening it unnecessarily.

"I…um – " Marley stammered, "I'm not a great flyer."

Tina leaned forward in her seat to offer some reassurance. "You know, statistics say that you're more likely to get into a car accident than to come to any harm on a plane. We hear so much about plane crashes because they actually happen so rarely."

"My advice? Just drink. It calms the nerves," Santana said from across the aisle, toasting her friends with a wink. Clearly, she was getting a head start on things.

Quinn grabbed Santana's wrist, pulling her hand down. "San, we haven't even left the ground yet. They haven't started serving anything – how did you get that?"

Santana smiled, turning to look at Quinn. "Auntie Tana has her ways. All right, fine - I flirted with one of our hot flight attendants. Thus the drink in my hand."

"You're unbelievable," Rachel laughed, shaking her head. She turned to Marley and leaned over to speak into her ear. "Don't listen to her. She's a bad influence. Just…feel free to hold my hand if you get scared or nervous."

"I have sleeping pills," Quinn offered, holding up the small bottle she'd just dug out of her purse. "In fact, I'm about to pop one right now."

Marley eagerly nodded at the suggestion. She looked down, where Rachel's hand was now covering hers, and then turned her gaze back over to Quinn. "I'll do both." She definitely didn't mind holding Rachel's hand, but she wouldn't mind sleeping through most of the flight, either.

"You guys are actually going to be fun once we get to Vegas, right? Because if not, I'm going off on my own." Santana declared, passing the bottle of pills across the aisle to Tina, who then reached awkwardly over Rachel's body to hand them to Marley.

"Yes, San, I promise - we will be fun and intoxicated and more up to your standards as soon as we get to the hotel." Quinn assured. She popped a pill into her mouth, washing it down with a small cup of water. "We just need to get through these next six hours, and then the party will start."

"Cheers to that." Santana smirked, raising her plastic cup to no one in particular before downing the rest of its contents.

A couple of hours into the flight, as Santana was flipping through a magazine, she felt Quinn's head suddenly land on her shoulder. She smiled, looking down at her, resisting the urge to press a kiss to the top of her head. Instead she slowly inhaled the scent of Quinn's blonde tresses, citrus and fruit filling her senses. The sweet aroma brought back memories of their hook-up. Once again, she secretly wished that it had gone beyond just a one-night stand.

Santana had often found herself thinking about that night in the years since, always playing the 'what if' game in her mind: what if Quinn was gay too? What if they started dating? What if they could actually make something between them work? She remembered how they had both been completely different people towards each other that night - no fighting, no harsh bickering, no face slaps - and found herself wondering if they could ever be like that again, thinking it would be (ugh, she hated this word)…nice.

Santana laughed softly at herself. Who was she kidding? She wasn't going to sit here and talk herself into falling for a straight girl, no way - but she would let Quinn rest her beautiful blonde head on her shoulder for the rest of this flight. She was sleeping anyway, so what Quinn didn't know wouldn't hurt her. She brushed her lips lightly over the top of the other girl's head, then returned her attention to the gossip magazine in her lap, signaling to the flight attendant so that she could get another drink. Because all of a sudden, Quinn's hand was resting on her forearm, causing pleasant butterflies to swarm in her stomach…and she wanted to drown them, quick.

Rachel was surrounded by sleeping girls, but she was wide awake.

Her natural energy was boundless; that was why she'd been an early riser since childhood. She was just one of those rare people who didn't need to sleep a whole lot to be functional throughout the day. Maybe that was one reason why she'd been so drawn to performing at an early age - it seemed like a perfect outlet for that natural energy, all that singing and dancing and moving around all the time. Her dads had certainly said as much numerous times. Now, although she didn't really like to be still, she had to be, lest she awaken Tina on one side of her, and Marley on the other.

She adjusted the earphones in her ears and tried to concentrate on the movie playing on the high-definition screen mounted on the back of the seat in front of her; but try as she might, though, she just couldn't keep herself from looking at her friends' slumbering faces.

They were so beautiful, so peaceful in sleep. Marley seemed to smile even when she was dead to the world, while Tina's expression, so open when awake, seemed mysterious and alluring in slumber. And then there were Quinn and Santana, so effortlessly gorgeous at all times. All Rachel knew about her own sleeping face was that she sometimes slept with her mouth open, as though to sing a wordless ballad (her dads had told her that, to their delight, and her mortification) - and that it was easy to draw on it with markers, as some rather ruthless girls had at the one and only sleepover party she'd attended back in middle school.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, she decided, if she tried to get a little sleep too, even though she didn't really need it. The flight to Las Vegas was not a short one, and Rachel figured that even she would need some extra energy to keep in that perpetually wide awake city. So she removed her earphones and turned off the movie, then tilted her seat back, aligning it with Tina's and Marley's.

When she closed her eyes, Rachel imagined herself singing on a big stage in one of Las Vegas' fanciest, most elegant casino hotels, as the likes of Celine Dion and Lady Gaga had done before. The house lights were dim, and the bright spotlight was on her, but she could still see her friends' beaming, happy faces gazing up at her from the front row, spurring her to give her greatest performance yet. By the third song, a smile had spread across her own sleeping face, though of course she didn't know it; she was already fast asleep.

Several hours later, she was awakened by her friends' stirrings, each mumbling under their breath about something or other, taking turns rising from their seats and heading down the aisle to use the plane's facilities. She failed to suppress a small giggle at the thought of Santana commandeering the lavatory for a quick assignation with a comely flight attendant.

After all, this was Santana. Anything at all was possible with her.

That was one of the things she'd always admired about Santana. She was fearless, rule-breaking, risk-taking; nothing ever seemed to scare her. Rachel had tried her best to adopt some of that bravery whenever she went on auditions. Whenever she'd start to feel a little scared, she would imagine Santana's voice in her head, saying things like "You got this, Smurfette. Nobody can beat you. They'll know as soon as you open your mouth that you're the right woman for the job." That would instantly send her confidence soaring, and more often than not, she'd end up giving a great audition, and even if she didn't get the role, she'd feel satisfied that she'd done her very best regardless.

When Marley finally returned, she gave Rachel a sweet, sleepy smile, gently nudging her shoulder to wake her. "Your turn, sleeping beauty."

In truth, Rachel was already awake, but she'd closed her eyes again, thinking about how great this trip was going to be and how much fun they were all going to have. She sat up so suddenly that it startled Marley, though thankfully Tina was unaffected, being an unusually heavy sleeper.

"Sorry," Rachel whispered as she rose from her seat, much more slowly and carefully. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Marley chuckled, waving away Rachel's concern with a flick of her wrist. "It's all right. You'd think I'd be used to your little bursts of energy by now."

"Morning, Rachel," Quinn said groggily from her seat, trying and failing to stifle a yawn. Rachel wondered absently how it was possible that the blonde could look gorgeous even while yawning. "I see you're your usual disgustingly chipper self already."

"I'll address that snarky comment when I return from the rest room," Rachel chirped in reply. "In the meantime, maybe you should flag down a flight attendant and obtain some coffee for yourself and Santana? You know what a bear she is when she doesn't have her coffee first thing in the morning."

Quinn blinked at her for a long moment. "Ugh, you're right. Have I told you how much I hate it when you're right? Never mind, don't answer that." She rubbed at her eyes with one hand and waved Rachel away with the other, making a shooing motion. "Go and do whatever it is chipper morning people like you do when you wake up. I'll just be here trying to rouse Santana from her coma."

Rachel just laughed before grabbing her bag of necessities (containing her hair brush, toothbrush, toothpaste and facial cleanser) and went off to use the rest room. She thought that Quinn would probably need to enlist Marley's help to wake Santana and felt glad that she'd miss the inevitable grumbling and grousing that would surely follow.

The sight of both Quinn and Marley shaking Santana in her seat, Quinn almost shouting in her ear, when she returned, almost made her laugh out loud.

Santana was still yawning after they collected their luggage, her feet dragging as Rachel all but pulled her along behind her as they made their way through the airport.

"Keep up, Santana," Rachel pleaded, glancing over her shoulder with a disapproving look. "My goodness, you were reprimanding us before the flight about how lifeless we all were and now you're sleepwalking."

"It's not my fault the flight attendant spilled the last cup of coffee," Santana grumbled, gesturing at her outfit - shorts, a tank top and a plaid button-up, the shirt still showing the evidence of the flight attendant's clumsiness, despite their best efforts at removing the stain.

Marley tried to stifle her laugh and failed. "I can't help but wonder if she did that on purpose. Maybe she wanted to see what was under that shirt?"

"Yeah, really," Tina chimed in, teasingly. "How many times did she squeeze your biceps, Santana?" She affected a high, fawning voice, imitating the flight attendant's flirting manner. "Ooh! You must work out." Santana smiled at that. It was the first time she'd done so since the plane landed.

"She slipped her number into my back pocket, too," the ex-cheerleader said, her smile becoming a wicked grin. "She'll be staying over in Vegas tonight."

Rachel, catching the look of disappointment on Quinn's face, squeezed Santana's hand and tugged her forward. "How about we keep this trip to just us - friends only?"

Santana rolled her eyes, shaking her head no. "This is Las Vegas! No rules. It's all about living in the moment. Let's just go with it and see what happens."

"How about we get to the hotel first and then see what happens," Quinn suggested. She picked up her pace when she spotted a man dressed in a suit holding up a sign with her name on it, "Oh look, that's us!" she said, pointing him out to the others. Her faster steps brought her to the chauffeur first.

The girls followed the man outside and over to a gorgeous black limousine, suddenly giddy with excitement.

"Are you kidding me, Fabray!?" Santana cheered, thrusting her suitcase at the chauffeur first. The man's blank expression never changed as he loaded each of their bags into the car's seemingly bottomless trunk. "I hope you get some sort of inheritance when your Uncle Richard passes."

"Real nice, San." Quinn retorted, her round sunglasses hiding the smile in her eyes. With the bags all secured, the driver opened the door, and the girls began to pile into the luxurious vehicle.

"Wow! Well, we all certainly owe him our gratitude," Rachel whispered in awe, looking around and taking in the details of the elegantly designed and furnished car's plush interior.

Quinn pulled out her phone to send her uncle a text to let him know that they had arrived safely, but to her surprise, he had already sent one of his own. She read it off for all of them to hear: "My uncle says he'll meet us all for dinner tomorrow night, as he has prior engagements tonight. He also says for us to have fun and help ourselves to anything in the limo and the hotel room, all on him."

"I love Uncle Richard!" Santana shouted, grabbing a bottle of champagne from the refrigerator. "Drink up, everybody!"

"Are we going to have to put a leash on her?" asked Tina with a wry smile.

"Santana on a leash…hmm. That idea has…possibilities," Quinn said with a smirk, clearly intrigued by the notion, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised in sudden delight.

Rachel giggled, playfully bumping her shoulder against Quinn's. "Has the city of sin already corrupted you, Ms. Fabray?"

Quinn lightly blushed, nudging Rachel back, but she said nothing in reply, suddenly grateful when Santana started passing out the champagne glasses and the conversation dissolved into hoots and hollers of debauched enthusiasm.

After a while, though, they all went silent as they drove, each of them gazing out the windows as the city surrounded them.

"Wow." Rachel hummed in approval, her eyes dazzled by the spectacle of the city in all its bright glory. "I can already feel the energy of the city and I love it."

* * *

They had never seen so many lights. Staring out the floor to ceiling window of the penthouse suite, the girls felt as though they had been dropped into a different world.

Sure, they'd all been to New York City with the Glee Club for the National Show Choir Championships, and marveled at that city's urban majesty, the height of its buildings, the bustle of its people, the sprawl of its concrete and metal geography; but even that place's legendary night-time illumination seemed to pale in comparison with the vast sea of lights that spread out as far as their eyes could see from the floor to ceiling windows of their hotel room. It was like a miniature galaxy brought down from the heavens and implanted in the earth somehow, with so many luminous stars glowing and winking back up at them.

"It's so beautiful," Rachel whispered aloud, her face so close to the glass that her nose was almost touching it. "So beautiful."

Her body vibrated with excitement, as though she was absorbing the energy of those millions of lights. She took Marley and Tina's hands in her own and squeezed them, each standing on either side of her. She beamed at her friends, feeling so grateful to be sharing this experience with them. Their eyes were open wide, their jaws practically on the carpeted floor as they stared and stared. Rachel enjoyed the looks of awe and wonder on their faces; thinking that they looked the way she felt.

Meanwhile, Santana had parked herself on a large, sumptuous leather chair and was busily popping bite-sized cubes of cheese and pieces of fruit into her mouth, smacking her lips loudly after swallowing each one before sipping from a large glass of wine.

"You know, I could definitely get used to this. Are any of you aware of any lesbian billionaires I could marry, or at least hook up with?"

"Not offhand, no," Quinn deadpanned. "Maybe you should look it up on 'Sugar Mamas dot com?'"

Tina and Marley laughed at the blonde's pointed barb, while Rachel watched Santana's smile morph into a frown and her eyes narrow to dangerous, angry slits. She hoped there would be no face-slapping here, but that hope sank as Quinn crossed her arms over her chest, a direct challenge. The other girls didn't know the dynamics of the relationship between the two former cheerleaders the way she did, so they couldn't see what was happening; they continued laughing even as Rachel felt a chill of dread race up her spine.

"Oh, good one, Q," Santana scoffed contemptuously. "Like you'd never date anyone for money, Little Miss 'I Live in the Biggest Fucking House in Lima?' Please. How many professors and pre-med students did you bag at Yale again?"

Suddenly Tina and Marley stopped laughing and glanced at each other nervously. It felt as though the temperature in the room had just dropped a good twenty degrees, as Quinn and Santana glared icy daggers at each other. The fine hairs on the back of Rachel's neck stood up in alarm.

"I dated exactly one professor - which I've admitted was a terrible mistake - and three pre-med students," Quinn said in a low, dangerous tone. "Meanwhile, you went to bed with every cheap bar-hopping slut in Brooklyn after you broke up with Brittany, and then went back for sloppy seconds after you and Dani split. You know what? If you ever did get yourself a sugar mama, at least you'd be trading up!"

Santana, outraged, leapt up from her chair, almost knocking over the little table on which the fruit and cheese plate and wine bottle stood. "You bitch! You promised not to mention Britt or Dani on this trip. You promised!"

"Sorry, not sorry," Quinn countered. "Too bad if your huge ego gets bruised easily whenever someone lobs a little bit of truth at it."

At that point, Rachel knew she had to act fast, hurrying to place herself between her two best friends, heedless of the very real possibility that she might accidentally catch a slap in the face herself. She spread her arms wide, frantically looking first at Quinn, then at Santana, the panicked expression on her face betraying the fear she felt inside as Tina and Marley looked on in horror.

"Hey! That's enough!" she shouted, loud enough to make Tina and Marley cringe. "Quinn, that remark was beneath you, and highly uncalled for. And Santana, you know better than to bait Quinn like that. Apologize to each other - NOW."

At the sound of Rachel's voice, Quinn and Santana visibly backed down. Tina and Marley watched with wide eyes, impressed at the way the petite brunette had managed to stop an all-out brawl from breaking out between the two volatile ex-cheerleaders.

"Santana has to go first," Quinn insisted with her arms crossed over her chest. Her voice was still deadly quiet and her jaw was still clenched, her hazel green eyes locked on Santana's dark ones.

"Oh, as if!" Santana scoffed.

"Listen, I'm not here to babysit you two!" Rachel shouted, stamping one foot on the carpeted floor. "This is the last time I'm going to intervene, so you can either apologize to each other, or... or we'll lock you two in here for the rest of the night and you two can just go at it for all I care!" Her voice softened, pleading. "We're in Las Vegas, guys! This is supposed to be a fun weekend getaway. When is it ever just us girls?"

Quinn and Santana continued glaring at each other. The rest watched them, wondering what might happen next, each a little frightened as the silent seconds ticked by.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Quinn and Santana seemed to come to some psychic, non-verbal agreement, if only for Rachel's sake. They nodded at each other, and then spoke simultaneously.

"I'm sorry."

Rachel let out a sigh of relief. Marley and Tina sat down on one of the beds, releasing the breaths they'd been holding. "There! Now, was that really so hard?" she asked with a small, tentative smile, allowing herself to relax just a bit, though still wary.

"Maybe it's time for something stronger than wine?" Marley suggested.

Santana turned to face her with a grin, the tension in her muscles slowly releasing as the adrenaline of the conflict began to wear off. "Finally, someone's got the right idea."

"There is an entire mini-fridge full of alcohol." Tina helpfully pointed out. "With a note on it telling us to help ourselves."

"Yay!" Santana cheered. "Let's start mixing!"

Quinn hurriedly walked over to the cups. "I'll make my own, thanks," she said with a pointed incline of her head towards Santana. "Can't be too careful. You never know what someone might put in your drink."

Santana watched her with a sneer and a raised eyebrow. "Whatever. Just make sure you actually put alcohol in there, Q. You seriously need to loosen up and unclench -"

"Santana, stop," Rachel scolded. "I said that was enough."

Santana rolled her eyes and bit her tongue, letting her scathing reply go unsaid. She cursed her newfound best friendship with Rachel. Now she actually listened to her, instead of ignoring or mocking her, as she had back in their high school days. Rachel and Quinn, for their parts, continued to glare at her, while she put on a dismissive smile.

"Hey - wanna play a drinking game before we head out for the night?" Tina blurted out suddenly, breaking the silence. She felt an acute need to ease the tension that had risen once again, and was pleasantly surprised when everyone, even Rachel, enthusiastically agreed to her suggestion.

Almost forty minutes later, Marley was sitting on the edge of the bed with a giant goofy grin on her face, the liquid in her cup sloshing around as she spoke. "I just – I just want to thank you guys for including me," she said slowly, then hiccuped before drinking some more and continuing on. "I wasn't even in your graduating class, and now...now I'm living in New York and I'm on a girls weekend trip with you guys in Vegas. Like…is this my real life?"

"And that's our cue to head to the club," Santana said, rising from her seat. "Come on, Berry." She stumbled over to Rachel and wrapped her arms around the petite singer's tiny waist. "Let's get out of this room and go dancing. Please?"

"Why are you asking me for permission? This is Quinn's trip, remember?" Rachel replied, amused at Santana's already semi-drunken behavior.

"I'm ready if you are," Quinn announced, making a dramatic entrance as she walked out of the bathroom wearing a tight and revealing black dress, the complete opposite of her usual brightly colored sun dresses.

"Whoa." Santana looked the blonde up and down and shook her head, as if she was unsure that she was seeing things correctly. "Ladies, Sunday school is officially over."

"Quinn, you look quite stunning, if I may say so," Rachel complimented her friend with a sweet smile. "Positively radiant."

"Thank you," Quinn returned, all the earlier tension of the evening forgotten, basking in her friends' stares of awe and amazement. "I bought this dress just for this trip."

Marley looked down at her own outfit with an unhappy pout. There wasn't anything particularly wrong with it, but still… "I think I need to change."

Several quick outfit changes - and a succession of wide eyes and slack jaws - later, Marley was finally ready to go.

"You don't think it's too much, do you?" she asked with an adorably nervous look on her face, barely keeping herself from biting her just recently painted nails, oblivious to the admiring stares her tight, short blue dress and red boots were garnering. "I mean, I've had this outfit hanging up in my closet for a while, but I was never brave enough to wear it out anywhere..."

Tina chuckled gently at the younger girl's almost comically bashful expression. Marley was almost too cute for words.

"Too much? Not at all," she said, watching Marley turn and wobble a little on her high heels, attempting to give everyone a look at her outfit from all angles. "Too little? That's debatable. Personally, I love it. I mean, we've all known Rachel had legs for days, from the first time we ever met her." Rachel blushed and ducked her head at the unexpected compliment as Quinn and Santana playfully nudged her shoulder, laughing. "But you? I didn't even know you had legs until now. At least, not legs like that."

"You mean it's too short?" Marley fretted, looking worriedly at the other girls. "I mean, I bought these boots to go with it because the sales girl said they would complement the length of the dress perfectly."

"Relax, Rosie. You look slammin'," Santana said, stopping just short of leering at the tall brunette. "Seriously, you've known us all this time and you're still this shy? Oh my God, come on. You've got a rockin' bod. I mean, I think I can actually see your abs through that dress. Damn, who knew Marley has a six-pack?"

Marley ducked her head, blushing furiously. "Oh my God...maybe I should put on something longer and not quite so tight?"

"No way. That dress is perfect on you," said Quinn firmly. "You look great. Just take the compliments and make sure you don't lose this." She tossed their room key to Marley, who quickly stuffed it into her purse. "Now let's go."

Rachel took the arm Quinn offered her, but didn't miss the look of annoyance that flashed across the blonde's flawless face when Santana hung back to loop arms with Marley. Tina took the middle position between all of them, and then they were sauntering down the hallway and toward the elevator.

"Love the long pig tails, T," Santana said, her words slightly slurred thanks to the alcohol she'd already consumed. "You're looking kinda…anime-like tonight."

Tina looked down at herself and realized her tipsy friend was right. "I guess this is sort of a dark 'Sailor Moon' look, at that. Like, if Princess Serena of the Moon Kingdom was a vampire or something..."

"It's totally you," Quinn agreed. "If only Figgins could see you now. He'd totally lose his mind."

They all laughed at that as the elevator bell *dinged* above their heads, announcing its arrival. Rachel stepped carefully into the elevator with her arm still looped around Quinn's, and the others piled in after them.

"You know, Principal Figgins was a likable enough man, but he was completely ineffectual as an authority figure," she mused as the elevator descended. "He let Coach Sylvester push him around far too much, which rendered him impossible to take seriously as an educator or as a leader. And what kind of man, let alone a school principal, is afraid of goth vampire girls, anyway?"

"One who can be fooled by a set of fake vampire fangs from a cheap magic store, obviously," Quinn replied with a grin, to renewed laughter.

The bell *dinged* again, and the elevator slowed as it reached the ground floor at last. They exited the conveyance and looked around, trying to get their bearings.

"Which way to the club, Q? I needs to get my dance and drink on, like now!" Santana declared, already busting a move in the middle of the carpeted corridor. The blonde stared at her for a moment, lost in the movement of the ex-Cheerio's hips. "Q?"

Quinn blinked, coughing to hide her embarrassment at being caught staring. She turned away from Santana's inquisitive eyes to gaze down the hallway.

"Um...I think...that way." Quinn pointed a tentative finger down the hall and to the right.

"All right, so what are we waiting for?" Santana paused a beat as she wobbled on her ludicrously high heels for a split second. "Let's go that way."

Someone started singing a soft chorus of "Raise Your Glass" as they made their way down the hall with varying degrees of gracefulness, and by the time they ran into a bunch of other club-going visitors all heading the same way, they were in almost full voice and perfectly harmonizing, proving the old saying that 'you can take the girl out of the Glee Club, but you can't take the Glee Club out of the girl' to be quite true.

Then the pounding beats of the music emanating from the club drowned out even their voices, and they went silent as the large, imposing doorman placed bracelets around each of their wrists, then gestured for them to enter.

* * *

 **A/N: Someone asked, but yes, I suppose you could say this is/will be Quinntana lol**


	4. Chapter 3

**Any mistakes are mine - some of these chapters might receive a better editing job in the future. Until then I wanted to give you guys an update! :) I hope you're still interested in the story.**

 **Please enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 4

"All right, let's stick together and if we do separate, please no leaving the club unaccompanied." Rachel instructed.

Santana gently wrapped her fingers around her bicep and rolled her eyes, tugging her over to the bar, "Okay enough with the chaperone bullshit. How many times am I going to have to remind you, Thumbelina that we are in Vegas?"

The question was obviously rhetorical and Rachel had no choice but to slide up to the bar with her, Santana expertly pushing her way through people, the bartender immediately focusing on her.

"What will it be, ladies?" he asked.

"I need five screaming orgasms and two double cranberry vodkas." Santana ordered and turned her head, singling for Quinn to bring the other two over since they were about to take a shot.

Marley's eyes went a little wide when they approached Santana and Rachel, watching as the bartender began to dump the ingredients in the cocktail shaker and began to mix them together.

"Oh, Santana, I'm not sure I can stomach a shot." Marley managed to inform her over the beat of the pounding music, her voice dripping with fret.

Santana reached around Rachel and pulled Marley over to her, slipping an arm around her slim waist giving her an encouraging squeeze, "I promise it taste like juice, you won't even taste the vodka."

Marley stared at the bartender who was now filling the five tiny glasses and then to Santana who winked in return, the music banging in her ears, people stumbling all over. She watched as her four friends reached out and each grabbed a glass, admiring that even Rachel was eager and willing to down the liquid, which for some reason suddenly gave her the courage to reach out and grab the last remaining glass.

"That's my girl." Santana smiled and turned to the other three, raising her glass in the air. "To Vegas!"

"To Vegas!" the other four cheered, clinking glasses and then downed the liquid as if they were pros.

"Oh, Santana, what was that?" Tina grimaced turning to the bar to put in a drink order so she could wash away the taste.

"I kind of enjoyed it." Rachel sweetly smiled and reached out to grab the drink Santana had bought for her.

Quinn simply shrugged, her eyes on the arm Santana still had curled around Marley's waist, prompting her to step up to the bar next to Tina so she could order her own drink.

Santana laughed due to Marley's twisted expression after she had downed her shot, grabbing the drink she ordered and handing it to her, "Here, chase it down with this."

Marley quickly brought the straw up to her lips, happily drinking down the cranberry vodka, it helping a little bit with the after taste of the other drink she had consumed.

Quinn sighed and reached out to grab her glass off of the bar, leaning into Rachel, "Are they on a fucking date?" she bitterly questioned with an eye roll.

"You two are unbelievable. You two almost started world war three back in the hotel room and now you're jealous of Marley because she is receiving Santana's attention." Rachel said with a shake of her head, "And I'm sure if you actually shared your feelings with Santana, she'd be all over you, so, like it or not, Quinn Fabray, this is entirely all on you."

"Oh, whatever." Quinn waved her off, not wanting to hear the reasoning because obviously Rachel was right, "Let's just go dance."

"Yes!" Tina smiled and turned around holding two drinks in her hand. "I am ready to party."

After a few songs on the dance floor, everyone had started to loosen up thanks to the alcohol coursing through their systems. The DJ had even managed to play a few songs that Rachel was able to sing along too and it seemed to triple her energy. Quinn's bitter vibe had even transformed into one of cheerfulness and excitement whether it was due to the fact that she was now on her fourth drink, or the fact that Tina and Marley had somehow gravitated to each other and were dancing with each other leaving Santana on her own content and away from Marley, she couldn't say, but she decided to go with it and enjoy her time.

Santana even though she was feeling hazy due to all the drinks she had, was in her own little glorious world, her focus every so often falling to Quinn's ass, her dress perfectly shaping it in the most magnificent way. The blonde wore so many lose fitting dresses and now that she actually had on something tight and revealing Santana couldn't seem to take her eyes off of her. She wanted to be close to her, but even through the fog of the alcohol she remembered that not that long ago back in the hotel room the two were almost rolling around on the floor pulling at each other's hair (and not in the fun way), saved only by Rachel's bravery.

"Tube shot?"

Santana was suddenly pulled from her daze, turning to a waitress who was giving out shots in little tubes, a small playful smile forming on her lips, "I'll take two." She said and pulled some money out, giving her a bill and grabbing a red and blue tube from the holder she was carrying.

Santana pushed her way in the middle of her friends, a wicked smile ever so present.

"Uh oh, I don't like that look." Marley slurred.

"Not for you." Santana promised turning to Tina and sticking the tube comfortably between her breasts.

"Santana!" Tina giggled.

Santana pointed to Rachel, beckoning her forward with her finger, her smile only growing as the anticipation of what her reaction was going to be when she instructed, "Take the shot...no hands."

Rachel looked from Santana and then Tina and finally to the tube filled alcoholic beverage resting between her friends boobs and without hesitation she brushed pass Santana and dipped her head down, wrapping her lips around the top of the makeshift glass, her nose brushing along Tina's flushed skin as she tilted her head back and downed the drink in one go. She then grabbed the empty tube and held it up in front of Santana's shocked expression, her hips still sexily moving to the beat.

"Ay, Dios Mio." Santana mumbled with wide eyes, "That was fucking sexy."

"Tell me about it." Tina said with a clear of her throat her entire body frozen due to the action Rachel had just performed. It was so simple, yet so sexy, she was sure her cheeks were burning a hot red.

Quinn smiled and reached out, her fingers wrapping around Santana's wrist, tugging on her lightly, "Who's the second one for?"

Santana's eyebrow rose and once she collected herself, she replied with, "Mine are bigger, so, you." She answered and slid the tube perfectly between her own medically enhanced breasts and took a step towards Quinn, "Thirsty?"

Quinn's hazel green eyes seemed to blaze up with an inner fire that was at least as bright as any of the lights in the hot, sweaty, smoky club.

"You don't think I can do this, do you, San? You're ready to just point and laugh and say something snarky when I beg off, tell Marley or Rachel to take the shot instead. Because this isn't something prissy little Quinn Fabray would ever do, right? Like, even Rachel is less uptight than I am, right? Well, guess what?"

Just as Santana was about to raise her hands in surrender, to mollify Quinn's wrath, the blonde leaned over slowly, allowing Santana to get a good long look down the top of her dress, and took the shot. The warmth of Quinn's breath against her skin sent pleasant shivers up her spine, and when Quinn held the tube aloft in triumph, basking in cheers and applause from Tina, Marley and Rachel, Santana could only stare in wonder. Her own dark eyes locked with Quinn's still-blazing green ones, and Santana suddenly felt a flame of her own spark low in her abdomen and quickly spread throughout the rest of her body.

All these years, Santana had longed for a repeat of the passionate hook-up she and Quinn had shared at Mr. Schue's ill-fated non-wedding; but until this moment, she hadn't believed that it could ever happen, mostly because she'd believed Quinn to be straight in spite of that torrid night and morning. And, truly, nothing she'd heard about Quinn's dating life at Yale had given her any reason to believe otherwise. Yet now, looking at Quinn, seeing the same hunger in her expression that she'd seen that night, feeling this sudden crackle of electricity passing between them, she began to wonder...had her best friend somehow been holding out on her? Had she not been entirely honest about her experiences at school?

She fanned herself, as though the temperature in the already sweltering club had risen another thirty degrees, and shouted a little too loudly over the music, "Damn, Q. You sure you're straight?"

The blonde's eyes widened as though she'd just taken another one of those infamous slaps to the face. For a moment, Santana worried that she might have overstepped the normally fairly straitlaced girl's boundaries; but then a devastatingly sly and sexy smile overtook her impossibly beautiful face, and she replied simply, "Never said I was. And you never really asked."

And then she walked away and towards the bar, her hips swaying so irresistibly that Santana felt her knees slightly buckle as she watched her go. Internally, part of her insisted that was only because of the alcohol she'd imbibed, but another, louder part of her recognized what she would never admit out loud: Quinn Fabray had just rocked her world, rocked it to the core. All thoughts of flirting with Marley flew out of Santana's head, and all she wanted now was to get her former cheerleading co-captain into her bed in the worst way.

A tapping at her shoulder brought her out of her reverie, and she turned her head to locate its source. It was Rachel, looking up at her with slightly glazed, unfocused eyes. "Go after her, S...San," the shorter girl slurred. "The b-ball...is..it's in your court...now. Take your sh..shot."

"A sports metaphor from Rachel Berry? Really? Will wonders never cease," Santana cracked. Then she took a deep breath, smoothed down the front her ridiculously tight dress and tossed her hair back. "I think you're right, though. Thanks, short stack. Take care of Tina and Marley. I gots me a blonde to catch up with."

Santana pushed her way through the crowded bar, alcohol and adrenaline coursing through her veins caused by the seductive deed Quinn had performed on her. It had been such a simple action, one she didn't think Quinn was going to fall for, but the blonde had surprised her and it left Santana wanting more.

Santana could see Quinn standing at the bar, nodding to the bartender and then her gaze fell to a gentleman standing closely next to her, the blonde offering him a polite smile and shake of her head and that's when Santana picked up her pace, this time pushing people out of the way. Quinn was beautiful, and suddenly Santana feared if she didn't reach her in time someone would beat her to the prize and take it away.

Seconds later she was finally able to push passed her last obstacle, stumbling slightly, but skillfully keeping her stride in the heels she had decided to wear, sliding in next to Quinn and in front of the random guy trying to hit on her.

"Hey."

Quinn turned her head, her annoyed expression turning into one of relief when she found Santana acting as a shield, ready to slap the asshole that didn't seem to be taking no for an answer. It was ruining her vibe, especially when she had just created such a positive alluring one back on the dance floor. She was finally successful in baiting Santana she didn't need anyone ruining her game.

Quinn offered her a sultry smile, keeping up the noted advantage she currently had over the Latina. She reached out and grabbed the drink she ordered, her smile growing when Santana tossed a bill on the bar, their eyes never breaking contact. She even managed to keep her composure when Santana circled an arm around her waist and leaned in, her lips pressed to her ear, hoping the loud music was enough to drown out the breath hitching in her throat. Her eyes fluttered shut when Santana's lips came inches to her ear, her fingers wrapping around the glass in her hand, wondering if her grip was going to break it.

"I spotted a VIP lounge upstairs. It's quiet up there..." Santana informed her, her hand sliding dangerously close down to Quinn's ass, "You wanna go?"

Quinn slightly turned her head, her lips brushing Santana's cheek, her free hand coming up to rest on her shoulder, "Are we allowed?"

Santana pulled back, her determined gaze falling onto to Quinn, her entire expression full of assurance, "It's you and I, Q. Of course we're allowed."

Santana was right, if anyone could get up there without actually having access passes, it was the two of them. The two of them with the snarky and logical comebacks, they were once co-captains of Sue Sylvester's Cheerios after all sneaking into a VIP lounge would be nothing.

Plus the look Santana was giving her brought back pleasant memories on the night of their hookup. It was Quinn who had asked Santana back up to her hotel room that night and now Santana was the one initiating this escapade and it made the situation that much more thrilling.

"I'm in." Quinn agreed with a lick of her lips.

Santana gave a nod and then reached for Quinn's hand, leading the way over to the stairs she had spotted when she was ordering drinks. When they made it to their destination she searched for any bouncers and when she didn't spot anyone she began to climb the stairs one at a time, Quinn following close behind. Once they made it to the top they found the loft type space to be lightly dim, only occupied by a handful of people who sat at small tables and couches. When no one approached them Santana nodded over to an empty couch by the back wall, singling for Quinn to go save the spot.

"I'll go get us drinks." Santana stated and headed over to the small private bar tucked away in the corner.

On her way over to where Quinn sat, she felt a jumble of nerves enter her stomach and she quickly took a drink, needing to wash whatever tension she was feeling away. She and Quinn were drunk and in Las Vegas and Quinn had just revealed that there was a chance she was into girls; there was no way she was going to lose her shot at climbing into bed with her again.

She swallowed a big gulp before she approached the couch and handed Quinn her drink and then sat down next to her, unsure and excited about where the night was going to take the both of them.

"So...I think we need to talk," Quinn said, swirling her straw around in her drink, staring intently into Santana's dark eyes.

Santana blinked at her. That was _so_ not what she'd had in mind. "Ugh, Q, really? Talk? You've known me for how long now? When have I ever been a fan of talking? I don't do big heart-to-hearts."

"Except with Brittany." The words came out too quickly, tumbling from Quinn's lips before she could stop them. She bit her bottom lip and cast her eyes down into her glass. Damn this alcohol! "Sorry. I didn't mean -"

"No, you're right. And look where it got me with her. Oh, that's right - nowhere," came the expected angry reply. And then, surprisingly, Santana's expression softened, became almost reflective in the low light of the VIP lounge. "But it's always been different with you, Q. You just...you've always kinda just gotten me. Like, so much of what we need to say to each other goes unspoken, because we just know how the other feels. I can just look at you and know what's going on in your head, and you can do the same with me, and...and we don't need to say anything about it."

"What am I thinking now?" Quinn challenged, raising her eyes to meet her best friend's once more, wearing a mischievous smile. "Tell me."

Laughing, Santana shook her head almost in disbelief. "Really, Q? You want to play that game? All right - here goes. You're thinking that you want me to fu-"

"No!" Quinn exclaimed, again a little too quickly. "I mean, well, sort of...but not exactly."

"I...don't know what that means. Or maybe I'm a little too drunk to figure it out right now." Santana hiccuped, then laughed again. "Damn, Q. I guess I should have mentioned that sometimes you can be a little...what's that word that Rachel likes to use when she talks about you? Oh, yeah - inscrutable. Like you are right now."

"Rachel says that about me?" Quinn paused to reflect for a moment. "I - I guess she's not wrong about that. I can be a little...closed off sometimes. You may have noticed that too, even if you would never use one of Rachel's words to describe it."

Suddenly feeling strangely nervous and a little out of her depth for some reason, Santana tossed back her drink, then hiccuped once more. Her head spun a little as the alcohol burned a hot trail down her throat. "I try never to use any of Rachel's words if I can help it."

Quinn smiled at that, then grew somber in spite of the warmth of the luxuriously furnished room. "Good idea," she chuckled. "But no, seriously, San - I just told you something really important about myself. Something I kept hidden for a long time. I...we need to talk about it. Please."

Santana considered this, squinting at the beautiful blonde next to her, trying to discern the expression on her face, the set of her body, the level of tension in her neck and shoulders. These things had always said much more about Quinn's mood and state of mind than her words usually did. She had to admit that she felt a little hurt by the fact that Quinn had kept this profoundly important aspect of herself hidden from her, but her hurt lessened when she thought about how difficult it must have been for Quinn to deal with it, knowing what she knew about Quinn's parents, about her upbringing in the conservative Fabray household. Quinn had once said something very enigmatic to her one time at a party, out of nowhere, and it had stuck in her memory ever since: "Sometimes I feel like I'm a stranger to myself. Like, the person I see in the mirror doesn't match up with the person I see when I close my eyes and try to think about who I am. And I think, does anyone else ever feel like this? Because I can't imagine anybody else not being able to recognize themselves that way. Not you, not Rachel...not anyone."

When Santana had asked her what that meant, Quinn had simply said, "I don't know," and then refused to talk about it, or even acknowledge that she'd ever said it, ever again.

"I...okay. Yeah, we should talk about this, Q. Because the more I think about it, the more it seems to explain about you."

'Not here, though. Okay? Please. Let's...let's just go back to our room. We can drink more there, but privately. Is...is that all right?"

"Sure, Q. You had me at 'we can drink more there.'" Santana rose a little too quickly from the couch, wobbling dangerously on her heels once again. "C'mon, Fabgay. I guess I can call you that for real now, huh?" She reached down, offering a hand to pull Quinn up. "Let's go."

Quinn took the offered hand, rising a little unsteadily herself, the room seeming to undulate around them as though they were underwater. "Yeah, no."

"No what?" Santana blinked through slightly unfocused, bleary eyes. "I mean, n-o what. Not...k-n-o-w what." She chuckled. "That's funny. No. Know." She held out her other hand to balance herself, feeling for a split second as though she might fall.

Quinn took a none-too-steady step forward, bringing herself into closer proximity with Santana, looking her up and down in such an unsubtle way that it sent butterflies fluttering around the Latina's insides. "No, you can't call me that. At least, not all the time. Only when...when we're alone together. Like...like in bed. Or something."

"Damn, Q," Santana murmured. "That makes it so much hotter."

Quinn laughed the loud, brassy laugh of the intoxicated, and nodded towards the door. "C'mon, San. Let's get out of here, while we're both still in the mood to talk."

Once they reached the bottom of the stairs from the VIP lounge, Quinn slipped her hand into Santana's pulling her close, the drunken Latina shivering when the blonde leaned in to speak in her ear, wanting to be heard over the music.

"We need a room key." Quinn said remembering she had given one to Marley and Rachel for safe keeping. Those two the more responsible ones out of the group.

Santana gave her hand a squeeze and nodded, Quinn's lips brushing the top of her cheek when she turned around to answer, "I'll go get one, meet you outside the club?"

"Hurry." Quinn answered with a small nod and smile and then she pulled away, unsteadily making her way through the crowded club and to the exit.

Santana watched her go, before turning to head to the dance floor, pushing people out of the way until she found Marley and Tina and then her eyes fell on the back of Rachel's head, her eyes slowly surveying her entire body, finally landing on her hips, which were perfectly moving to the rhythm of the music pounding in the club.

Santana's eyebrows rose with delight, "It looks like tiny knows how to have a good time after all." With that thought in mind and with the help of her alcoholic delusion, she took the last remaining steps towards her friends, pressing her front into Rachel's back, her hands resting on her hips, her own keeping up to the tempo Rachel had going, the petite brunette not even flinching when Santana had joined her.

"Where's Quinn?" Rachel questioned and leaned back, knowing just by the warmth and feel of the body pressed into her it was Santana, the new dance partner not breaking her stride as she kept moving to the music.

"Waiting for me." Santana answered, biting her bottom lip when Rachel pressed her ass into her, "We need a room key." She said through a small breath of arousal, deciding to add, "You tease."

"Oh!" Rachel drunkenly smiled and spun around so she was facing Santana, her arms coming up to rest on her shoulders, "You two talked?"

"For the most part." Santana answered and dipped her head down so her lips were pressed against her ear, "I think we'll save the deep stuff for the morning, if you know what I mean." She smirked with a lick of her lips, "Or _you_ could come back up to the room with me and move your hips like that on my face."

"Santana!" Rachel shrieked, mildly offended, but she had been living with Santana long enough to be used to her boldness by now, it taking all of her willpower to hold back a small smile, not drunk enough to admit that she always enjoyed the flirty friendly banter, "Vulgar much?" she asked and swatted her arm, bringing her clutch up so she could find the room key, "My goodness."

Santana lightly laughed, "I'm only joking. I have a hot blonde waiting for me."

Rachel finally pulled the room key out of her clutch, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek, "It's about time." She said and then pressed the key into the palm of Santana's hand, "Good luck."

"Thank you." Santana smiled looking over top of Rachel's head, to find Tina and Marley happily dancing and sloshing their drinks around, which caused her smile to grow, "Have fun." She said and turned to leave, but quickly spun back around, her face and tone serious, struggling as she uttered out, "And be careful. Call Quinn or I if you need us."

"We will." Rachel assured her with a nod and smile, a small warmness spreading through her chest due to Santana's worry over her and the other two.

Santana nodded once, watching the three of them gravitate back into a small circle on the dance floor, resuming their fun, a little wary of any creepy guys trying to interrupt them, but she remembers Quinn is waiting for her, and she knows the three of them together is a strong safe bond.

Finally she makes it outside of the club, looking up and locking eyes with Quinn, holding up the room key, she watches as Quinn smiles and pushes off the wall, walking over to take Santana's hand, the two happily stumbling together in search of the elevators.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Santana and Quinn laced their fingers together as they stepped onto the elevator, Santana smiling to herself and drunkenly snorting when she reached out to press the floor number they were one, and then quickly jabbed at the button to close the doors, not wanting anyone else on with them.

"Deja vu." Santana stated offering Quinn a sly smile, her eyes full of lust.

Quinn knew that look all too well and it caused her to lightly blush, knowing that as soon as they stepped back into their hotel room she was going to have to muster up all of her willpower and hold back from going at it with Santana. She really did want to talk with her, it was well overdo, but she had the greatest feeling that even though Santana agreed they would talk, the Latina's mind was definitely elsewhere.

When the elevator finally reached their floor, they walked off, still holding hands the entire walk down to their hotel room, only letting go so Quinn could search her small purse for the room key. She stood in front of the door, her head angled down, her blurred drunken vision making the simple task a little more difficult, and then suddenly there was a warm body pressed up against her back and a hand splaying on her lower stomach.

Quinn's breath hitched in her throat, her hand freezing in her purse, "San..." she whispered and her head tilted to the side when she felt fingers brush her blonde hair away from her neck.

"Hurry up." Santana purred and nipped at her ear. "I'm getting antsy."

Quinn's fingers finally wrapped around the hotel room key, pulling it out and quickly unlocking the door, the both of them stumbling in pass the threshold.

"Whoa." Quinn paused a moment, her fingers massaging her temples, "I think I need some water before I have anymore alcohol."

Santana slammed the door shut, ignoring whatever Quinn had just said, and began to prowl on over to Quinn, almost falling due to both her heels and the alcohol coursing through her body, "Stupid things." She muttered, finally kicking her heels off and then she reached Quinn and tugged her close. "Hi."

"Hi." Quinn smiled and reached up to cover Santana's mouth with her hand before she could lean in and kiss her, "Santana, no. Talk first."

Santana's eyebrows creased with confusion and she shook her head, Quinn's hand still covering her mouth. She was honestly hoping by the time they arrived back to the room, Quinn would have forgotten all about the heart to heart and want to partake in some mouth to mouth instead.

"Santana." Quinn pleaded, their eyes locking.

Santana licked the palm of her hand, smiling when Quinn jumped back with a small scream. "Did you just lick my hand?"

"I could lick something else." Santana winked and sauntered over to the mini fridge, "But apparently you're serious about this whole talking thing, so..."

"Yes, I am. And I was sincerely hoping you'd take it a little more serious too." Quinn stated and walked over to plop herself down in one of the chairs, a wave of nerves once again washing over her, causing her to decline her water idea and call out, "Make me a drink too."

Santana's eyes lit up and she happily obliged, "You got it!"

Once Santana mixed two drinks into red solo cups, she carefully made her way over to Quinn and handed her one, and then took the seat next to her, "Okay, so... let's just start things right off the bat, are you bi or full on lipstick lesbian?"

Quinn felt her cheeks heat up due to the question and she was thankful for the drink in her hand, because she brought it up to her lips and took a large drink to try and hide her reaction, but she knew she was already caught, it wasn't easy to hide anything from Santana, but she was happy that Santana was actually polite enough for once in her life not to make a comment.

"I think... well...I..." Quinn stammered, her thoughts swimming through her mind, unsure exactly how to explain herself. "I just know that...after our night together, a lot of things seemed to click for me."

Santana's expression turned into one of complete pride, wanting so bad to make a witty reply, but even in her drunken state, she knew Quinn was struggling a little with this and she didn't want to make her uncomfortable. Not after she remembered the talk she had with her abuela when she came out to her, a feeling she still couldn't seem to shake even after all these years. So she tried to encourage her to explain herself some more.

"What exactly?"

Quinn took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled, her eyes focused straight ahead on the carpet, zoning out as she began to talk, "Why I never enjoyed sex as much up until I experienced it with you. Then when I tried to tell myself it was a "college experiment" I slept with that professor and I was just numb..."

Santana slowly reached out, placing her hand on Quinn's forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze, "I know how lonely those thoughts can be, Q. Why didn't you come to me or hell, why didn't you go to Rachel!?"

"I had planned on talking to you." Quinn said, "I booked a trip to New York and everything and then... and then I found out you were back with Brittany. So I cancelled the trip. Then after Brittany you were with Dani... and then it just felt like our hookup was so long ago, I figured you were over it, but I wasn't."

"You weren't?" Santana questioned.

Quinn shook her head, taking another very long drink from her cup, a big one this time, the liquid going down a little too soothingly and when she pulled the cup from her lips, it also happened to give her the courage to confess this next part, "And I did go to Rachel. She's..." Quinn paused to lightly laughed, this was it, there was no going back now, "She's the only one who knows that I have these stupid feelings for you."

Santana felt as though she'd been slapped in the face despite the fact that Quinn hadn't even raised her voice, much less her hand.

"Wait, what? Hold up. Did you just say you have...feelings for me? Stupid feelings? And you've had them for all this time?"

She felt as though she was beginning to sober up, although she knew it was only the shock of what she'd just heard that was cutting through her pleasant alcoholic haze. Santana Lopez was used to being lusted after, used to being desired...but she wasn't used to people confessing to having feelings for her. Nor was she used to being forced to admit that she had feelings for someone else. Hell, she hadn't done that since she'd declared her love for Brittany - and that hadn't exactly worked out in the long run. Yet she couldn't deny that she did, in fact, feel something more for Quinn than the normal affection one generally feels for a close friend, something more than simple physical attraction. Something had changed for her, too, after that night - and morning - at Mr. Schuester's wedding-that-wasn't, but she'd spent the years since then suppressing those feelings, convinced that what they'd shared was only ever going to be a one-time thing, that Quinn was just a straight white girl who'd satisfied her curiosity about what it would be like to sleep with another woman and had subsequently gone back to the safer path of being what the world called "normal."

"Santana? Are you all right?" she heard Quinn's concerned, questioning voice as though it was coming from somewhere far away. "You're not about to get sick, are you? Because if you are, I will kill you if anything gets on this dress."

"What?" Santana blinked, grateful to be brought out of the feedback loop playing in her head. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, Q. Just...surprised. I wasn't expecting to hear - that." She shook her head, reached for the bottle of alcohol, then let her hands fall back to her lap. Somehow she now wanted clarity, to impose some order upon her jumbled, chaotic thoughts. "Not - not that's a bad thing, of course. It's just...wow, Quinn. You really know how to let the bombshells drop."

Quinn let a small, hopeful smile spread across her face, still flushed with warmth from all the alcohol she'd consumed. "Yeah, sorry about that. Well, no, not sorry, really. Rachel told me that I'd regret it if I never let this come out, that it would consume me if I didn't finally tell you how I felt."

"When did short stack get a psychology degree?"

"I don't think you need a degree to figure out how messed up I am. How messed up we both are." Quinn sipped at her drink, her eyes misting over as the alcohol flowed into her system. "But...to get back to your question - yes. I've had these feelings all this time. I just didn't know what to do with them, or even how to process them. Rachel helped me a bit, but for the most part, I've had to work through this on my own." She drew in a deep breath, let it out in a long exhale. "I don't have to tell you that being gay, or bi, or anything other than safely straight and Christian is not looked upon with favor by my parents, particularly my dad. I was raised to see that as wrong. But then I got to know you...and Brittany...and Rachel...and I got past that, and learned to see things differently, as far as other people went."

Santana nodded, feeling her throat constrict at the memory of their turbulent high school years, when she had come out first to Brittany, then to the rest of the Glee Club, and finally to her parents and her abuela. She'd done so knowing that her parents would be accepting and supportive, which had gone a long way towards easing her anxiety over it - she couldn't imagine what she would have done without that certainty. What she would have done if her parents were like Quinn's. Russell and Judy Fabray were cold and judgmental and forever making their daughter practically beg for their approval, bound in the strangling coils of a religion that was based on guilt and fear of anything "other."

"But when it came to seeing myself? That's the hardest thing for me, and it always has been," Quinn continued, her voice wavering as she found the battering tide of her emotions breaking down the last of the walls she'd long maintained around them. "I found it much easier to accept my friends being gay than to accept the idea that I was too. So I tried to hide from it, tried to lock my feelings away. But I couldn't do it. The more I tried, the more it felt wrong. The more it hurt. I kept trying to cling to the idea of who my parents thought I should be, rather than allow myself to accept myself for who I truly was. Who I truly am."

Santana let out a long, low whistle, connecting the dots now.

"And by the time you thought you were ready to try, I got together with Dani, and that blew your resolve to shreds."

"Got it in one," the blonde laughed, regret coloring the edges of it, making it sound rough and worn. Santana didn't like the sound of it. "I thought I'd lost my chance, if I even truly had one with you. That was...hard. Rachel helped me through that, too."

"Wait." Something in Quinn's voice, in the light blush coloring her cheeks, told Santana there was another layer of meaning to those last few words. "Helped you through...how?" A light went on in her head, and her eyes widened as her jaw dropped. "You - you slept with her, didn't you? Oh my God, you totally did!"

Quinn ducked her head to hide her quickly reddening skin at the unintended revelation. "I'm gonna need to drink more to get through this part," she mumbled around the rim of her glass.

Santana cackled with glee. "Oh, wow. This is too good. You realize that you have to tell me everything now, don't you? 'Cause if you don't, I'll embarrass the hell out of Rachel by asking her. And by the way, I can't believe neither of you ever said anything about this! Well, maybe you I can believe, 'cause you've always been so damned repressed...but Rachel? When did she learn to keep her mouth shut?"

"Not that night," Quinn said in a small voice. "Oh my God, I'm turning into you now."

"Wanky."

Quinn kicked her heels off and stood up, making a wobbly walk over to the mini fridge where all the alcohol was kept, feeling Santana's eyes on her every step of the way, happily bending over and purposefully sticking her ass out as she reached in and grabbed a bottle of liquor, mentally thanking her uncle for filling the fridge up before their arrival.

"Damn." Santana whispered under her breath, quickly reaching up to wipe some drool she was sure was starting to form at the corner of her mouth all due to the attractive appearance of Quinn. Her desire for her only increasing seconds ago when the blonde had confessed she had actual more than just lustful feelings for her.

Quinn stood up, running her fingers through her hair, looking at the cups and then back to the bottle in her hand. After a few minutes of contemplating she shrugged, "When in Vegas." She said and pulled the top off, taking a swig.

"Wow, Q. This must be one hell of a story."

Quinn smirked and headed back over to the chair she was sitting in, handing the bottle over to Santana, who gladly took a drink, "It doesn't compare to our first time. I suppose the only difference was, I was sober during my time with Rachel, fueled on misery and anger."

Santana only nodded, wincing as the alcohol burned down her throat, handing the bottle back over to Quinn. She leaned back in her seat to get as comfortable as she could for wearing such a short tight dress, eager to hear the tale of Quinn's past.

"I came to visit you guys in New York." Quinn began averting her eyes to something else while she started to retell the story of that night, "Kurt had managed to get reservations at this high end restaurant thanks to his boss. I bought a new dress and new shoes, Kurt even helped me do my makeup – "

"Wait – " Santana held up her hand to stop her, "Why wasn't I invited to this fancy restaurant?"

Quinn bitterly smirked and she used this interruption to take another drink, her face starting to feel numb, which told her she was on her way to becoming extremely intoxicated. Slowly she turned to look at Santana, her expression saying it all.

Santana pursed her lips, nodding with understanding, "Oh...I – I was –"

"You ditched us to go out on a date with Dani." Quinn reminded her, "I think your exact words were, 'a fancy dinner with my friends won't get me laid. Thanks, but no thanks, bye bitches.' "

"Huh..." Santana hummed with a small nod of her head, her eyes glossing over and a small smile finding her lips, "I _did_ get laid that night."

"So anyway!" Quinn carried on, "Obviously I was upset, Rachel knew why, Kurt didn't, but after dinner Kurt didn't come back to the loft with us, it was only Rachel and I, which is when I finally had my little break down."

"Hold up!" Santana interrupted again, "You threw a Quinn Fabray tantrum over me?" she questioned her eyes going wide when Quinn slowly nodded, "Damn, I'm sorry, Q. I didn't know-"

"I know." Quinn rolled her eyes, "Can I finish?"

"Please."

"So, after scaring the shit out of Rachel, who I swear was chanting some kind of Jewish biblical verse at me or whatever it is that they do... she managed to calm me down." Quinn said, "She was really sweet. I mean obviously, it's Rachel. She was running her fingers through my hair, and telling me all these kind things and then she was pressing kisses to my forehead, and cheeks and lips..."

"Tongue?"

Quinn stared at her with disbelief, waving her hand in the air trying to indicate how evident the answer was, but apparently it wasn't registering with Santana's drunken mind, so Quinn finally answered, "We had sex, what do you think, San?"

Santana leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand, questions flooding her mind, but the only word that seemed to form on her lips was, "Hot."

"So, yeah, at first I was kind of pretending it was you – "

"Fucking sexy!"

"But then –" Quinn cut her off, her tone of voice warning her to interrupt again, her eyes narrowing in on her and Santana clamped her mouth shut and pretended to lock it up and throw away the key, "Rachel was surprisingly good... great actually. And I assume I was good for her too, because she was hitting those high notes just like she did back in glee. Thank god Kurt wasn't home, although I'm sure the neighbours heard everything and know exactly what my name is."

"So you and Berry huh?" Santana slowly nodded, watching Quinn carefully, "I have to say, I'm a tiny bit jealous."

Quinn slowly pulled the bottle of alcohol from her lips, her one perfectly shaped eyebrow lifting with curiosity.

"This is purely a drunk confession, but I've had fantasies of the little short stack." Santana confessed with a sly smirk, "You live with her long enough you're going to see her in minimal amounts of clothing... or accidentally walk in on her in the shower. She has a smokin' bod."

"Accidentally, San?" Quinn lightly laughed and then hiccuped.

Santana shrugged and then reached over so she could swipe the bottle back from Quinn, this time when she took a drink it didn't taste like anything and she knew that was a high indication that she should stop, but she quickly pushed through that thought and happily allowed the liquid to pool into her stomach.

"So, so..." Santana tried to begin, her mind foggy with alcohol and questions of the confession she had just heard, "Like – are you into Rach now? Like – " Santana hiccupped and she nodded her head, hoping Quinn understood what she was trying to say, because even though her mind was starting to warp, there was a part of her that was suddenly frightened Rachel would ruin her chances at getting with Quinn. "I just – I just got you back, Q – she ain't nothin' compared to me."

Quinn's forehead scrunched up with confusion, she was sure if she wasn't hazed out, she'd be able to decipher what her friend was trying to say, "You just got me back?" She mused out loud, her head lolling back against the chair, deciding to just focus on the first question, "No, what I felt for you and Rachel were two totally different feelings."

Santana nodded, then slumped down onto the bed. All thoughts of fooling around with Quinn were forgotten at this point; now she was just concerned with remaining conscious.

"Go on...I'm...I'm listenin'..." she drawled, the alcohol making her tongue feel thick and heavy in her mouth, even as her head swam in an ocean of various liquors. "You...you an' Rachel...still...still can't get over that one."

Quinn stumbled a little, but stayed mostly upright, crossing the carpeted floor to grab both of Santana's hands and pull her into something resembling a sitting position. She was grateful that Santana hadn't started crying yet, her best friend being well known as a classic weepy drunk.

"Come on, San - I'm not gonna...gonna have you fall asleep on me now. Get up. We're going for a...for a little walk."

Groaning, Santana allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. "Don't wanna," she protested with a goofy drunken pout. "Jus'...jus' wanna stay here on this comfy bed."

"No, San. If you stay on the bed, you'll fall asleep! And...and then I'll be here talking...talking to myself."

"Wouldn't be the first time, would it?"

Quinn blinked a few times, trying to recall through the alcoholic haze whether or not that was actually true; then she shook her head to dismiss the question from her mind. Instead of answering, she looped her arm through Santana's and tugged her towards the door.

"Come on, San. Walk with me. S' too early for bed."

They slowly shambled their way over to the elevator, ignoring the looks they received from some of the older guests as they wobbled in their heels, clearly inebriated. Santana tried to level a glare at them, but only managed a lopsided smile and a strange sort of giggle before Quinn stepped into the elevator and yanked her in behind her.

"Anyway," Quinn began, taking a deep breath, propping Santana up with a strong arm, "Rachel was...she was being a friend. You know? She...she knew what I needed...even before I knew. If you...opened the door...to me accepting...myself..." She paused, trying to collect her thoughts. "Rachel pulled...pulled me through. After that night...I couldn't deny who I...what...I was."

Santana winced at the sound of the elevator bell when they finally got down to the ground floor again.

"That was too fuckin' loud, Q. Tell your uncle...they need to make...those bells...quieter."

Quinn silently agreed, concentrating on keeping them both upright as they took a zig-zag path down the long, sparsely populated hallway. Several middle-aged men who had congregated in the middle of it smiled and leered at them, no doubt more than a little drunk themselves.

"Hey, girls," one of them called out. "Do you need a little help? My buddies and I will be glad to -"

"Fuck off," Quinn replied through gritted teeth. Suddenly she felt a little vulnerable - but she wasn't about to let it show. Not in front of these idiots. "Not interested."

"What are you, lesbos?" Another one questioned. "If you are, would you let us watch?"

Suddenly Santana perked up, raising her head from its resting place on Quinn's shoulder. "Hey! Asshole!" she yelled. "The lady said - we're not interested! Comprende?"

"San!" Quinn hissed under her breath. "Don't - don't piss them off. They might -"

"All right, all right," the first man said, surprisingly. "There's a million hotter women here than you two, anyway." He clapped two of his friends on the back; Quinn smiled at hearing them exclaim "Ouch!" afterwards. "Come on, boys - let's go find some."

The other men grumbled, but acquiesced to their leader's suggestion, much to Quinn's relief. Absurdly, she wondered aloud, without realizing it, what Finn and Puck would have done if they'd been present to witness the confrontation.

"Probably woulda gotten their asses kicked," Santana said, laughing. "Or at least Finn would. Puck might've put up a...a halfway decent fight."

Quinn laughed as well, her nerves calming now that the group of men had shuffled away. "Yeah, probably."

They ambled along in amiable silence for a while, until Quinn found them a bench on which to park themselves. They plopped down onto it, but then Quinn noticed that there was a vending machine containing various soft drinks standing against the wall opposite them, and another containing a bunch of snacks. Suddenly, it occurred to Quinn that it would probably be a very good idea for them to eat something and have something to drink that didn't contain alcohol.

"Stay...stay here, San. I'm gonna get us a little snack."

When she rose from the bench, Santana slumped back heavily against the wall. She didn't hit it hard, but that didn't keep her from exclaiming, "Ow! Bitch. Warn me next time, will you?"

Quinn said nothing in response, concentrating on aiming her dollar bills into the little slot on the beverage machine. "Two bottles of water, coming up," she murmured to herself, smiling when her money was finally swallowed up. One bottle fell with a _klunk_, and then Quinn repeated the process to obtain another bottle for Santana. She bent to retrieve the bottles, feeling Santana's eyes on her upturned ass, and her smile widened.

"Like the view?" she asked without turning to see Santana's expression, which she knew would betray no shame. Santana Lopez simply did not do shame.

Sure enough, Santana replied, "Hell yes. You know I've always thought you had a great ass, Q. Didn't...didn't I ever tell you that?"

Quinn handed Santana one of the water bottles, then watched her try and fail to open it before setting her own bottle down on the bench and opening it for her. "Thanks, Q," the Latina mumbled before downing a healthy swig.

"Easy there," Quinn lightly admonished. "Don't drink it all at once. Last thing we want is for you to get sick all over the place."

She took a smaller swig from her bottle, then turned her attention to the snack machine, her pink tongue peeking out from the corner of her mouth as she contemplated the variety of snacks it offered. "And don't say you never get sick, 'cause you do. Or do I have to remind you about that time at Rachel's house with the Glee Club?"

"Aw, come on, Q," Santana protested, her voice taking on a slightly injured tone. "That was...that was a long time ago."

"Still happened. Chips or cupcakes?"

"That's a question? Cupcakes, always. Especially if they're chocolate."

"You got it." Quinn's head had begun to clear slightly after downing the water; her fingers navigated the money and selection buttons much more smoothly this time. "God, Coach Sue would kill us if she knew we were even looking at these things."

"Fuck Coach Sue," Santana said, a little too loudly. "Fuck her and her wardrobe of fifty thousand fucking track suits."

Quinn laughed as she retrieved the unhealthy but supremely delicious snacks from the machine. "You know what, San? You're right. Fuck Sue Sylvester." She resumed her former seat at the bench, handing Santana her package of cupcakes before embarking on the task of opening hers. "God, it's been three years since high school and I still have nightmares about that woman. Final exams at Yale were less scary."

"I wouldn't know. College drop-out here, remember?" Santana peered at the plastic wrap on her package of cupcakes, then managed to open it on the first try. "Yes! The treats are mine."

Quinn rolled her eyes, laughing at her friend's drunken antics. "You're still one of the smartest people I know, college or no college."

"Aw, Q. That's one of the nicest things you've ever said to me," Santana said around a mouthful of cupcake. "Mmm, chocolate."

"Not as nice as what you said about my ass. Both tonight and that night at Mr. Schue's wedding."

"I knew I'd told you that before."

"Ever the romantic," Quinn smiled, then took a bite of cupcake. "Take that, Coach Sue!"

"Hey, hey...hey." Santana nudged Quinn a few times, her eyes still focused on the cupcake as she took another bite, not caring that her mouth was full when she said, "Let's get pizza or somethin' ...hey? You down?"

Quinn licked some of the chocolate icing from her lips and leaned back against the wall, "Where?"

Santana stuffed the last remaining bite of cupcake into her mouth and then began searching for her phone, "It's Vegas...they would probably deliver it to us right here."

"I want one of those things – " Quinn said with an excited expression, her eyes following three women carrying tall red slush drinks.

After retrieving her phone Santana looked up just in time to see Quinn pointing to the back of the three women, which caused her to lowly whistle, "Damn, Q... you really are a lesbian."

"Shhh, shut up, San. They were holding those strawberry daiquiri drinks. Let's go find 'em."

"Whoa – " Santana mumbled squinting at the phone in her hand, fumbling a few times as she tried to unlock it to check her messages, "The group chat is full." She exclaimed holding the phone up to Quinn's face, "Look."

After her eyes adjusted to the screen being thrust in face, she managed to read some of the messages through blurry vision, "Shit – we probably should've told them we were leaving."

"Mmhmm." Santana nodded in agreement leaning her head on Quinn's shoulder as she scrolled through them, her eyes landing on a particular name and since Quinn had told her about Rachel and somewhere deep down inside it kind of hurt her a little, she suddenly had the urge to bring up her own secret, as a way to sort of hide her feelings, or so her drunken mind was telling her it was a good idea anyway, "I was gonna bang Marley tonight."

"Huh?" Quinn's head turned to look at her so fast she had to close her eyes for a second so her eyes could focus.

"Yeah." Santana quietly said her face sort of falling a little, "That's when you were straight though."

"Santana – " Quinn began trying to sit up a little, "Santana it's just you and I here and I just confessed two major secrets, tell me, tell me what's going on in that beautifully complicated mind of yours."

"I don't know, Quinn!" Santana said a little too loudly and it caused her to duck due to her own voice, even Quinn brought her finger up to her lips to indicate that she was being too loud, so when she began speaking again her voice was hushed, "All this time I thought you were the queen of straight women everywhere. Now I find out you're bumping goodies with Rachel."

"Only once, Santana, we only did it once."

Santana slowly sat forward and then stood up, "Shh, that's not the point. You – you should have told me." She stated with a wave of her hand, "I thought I was just an experiment for you, but now I come to find out – ugh –" she shook her head, having to take a minute to collect herself, because now not only were her emotions swirling quickly around in her mind, but so were the walls, "I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you. Even when Britt and I got back together."

"Wait, what?" Quinn questioned and finally sat forward, "Why didn't you say anything?"

Santana crossed her arms over her chest, her pout extremely evident, "I thought you were straight."

Quinn's head fell into her hands. Wearily, she let out a long, dramatic breath. "Why is our relationship so complicated?" she asked aloud. It was a rhetorical question; she already knew the answer.

Santana slowly slumped to the ground, moving so that she was kneeling in between Quinn's legs. With a smirk, she gave voice to the answer in Quinn's head. "Why? That's an easy one. Because we're both stubborn bitches, Q. That's why."

Quinn finally stood up, wobbly at first; but after a moment or two, she was able to steady herself. Once she was confident in her ability to remain reasonably upright, she walked around Santana. "Come on, come on we're in Vegas," she slurred, reaching back blindly to offer Santana her hand. "Let's forget about our past and start living in the present."

"I like that." Santana nodded as she took Quinn's hand, allowing the other girl to pull her shakily to her feet. "You know what present me would really enjoy right now?"

"I promise, we'll have sex later – "

"No, not that. But yes, that. And also a burger."

Quinn considered this as she took careful steps towards the hotel exit. "Let's go get a burger. And then...we'll see what happens after that."

* * *

Rachel leaned back against the rear wall of the elevator as it slowly brought her and the other girls back up to their room. Her feet were aching, throbbing with pain. She had never danced or drank so much in her life; she was exhausted, but still exuberant at the same time.

After a few moments of silent deliberation, she suddenly declared into the silence, "All right, I'm doing it."

Tina's eyes went wide, and she hurried to step away from her. "You're not gonna throw up, are you?"

Rachel shook her head and reached down, wobbling slightly as she moved. "No, silly. I'm taking my heels off." With that, she slipped them off with surprising ease, and let out a low moan of relief. "Oh my God, yes! That feels so much better."

Marley quickly followed suit, a blissful smile blooming on her flushed face once her feet were free as well. "Oh yes. That does feel nice."

Tina laughed softly, shaking her head at her friends' antics. "Sounds like you two might be enjoying that a little too much."

"Speaking of enjoying things..." Rachel began, pausing as the elevator finally came to a stop on their floor and the three stepped out into the hallway. "You two might want to prepare yourselves -"

"For naked Quinn and Santana?" said Tina, cutting her off. "Already have."

"Same," Marley confirmed, raising her hand. The three slowly made their way back to their room, grateful for the quiet after the all the hours they'd spent in the noisy club. "At least there's an extra bedroom they can have."

"Amen to that." Rachel came to a stop, the others stopping behind her, as they found themselves in front of their door at last. She pulled out her key card and slid it home. Once the light turned green, indicating that it was unlocked, she slowly opened the door and peeked inside, listening for any sound. "Santana? Quinn?" she softly called, stepping into the darkness. She turned on the lights, blinking at the sudden brightness. "We're back..."

"And I have to pee, so put some clothes on!" Tina shouted and burst past her, rushing straight for the bathroom.

"There's two bathrooms, right?" Marley asked.

Rachel nodded towards the bedroom part of the giant suite. "If you're brave enough to go in there."

Marley rushed towards the door, "I don't want to ruin this dress, so yes I am!" she exclaimed. She ran through where the master bedroom was, then slowed down and covered her eyes in case Quinn and Santana were having sex. "Sorry, sorry, sorry!" She halted in confusion right in front of the bed when she heard no reply, her full bladder momentarily forgotten when she found it empty. "They're – they're not in here."

Rachel poked her head inside. "What?!"

"Yeah – see for yourself." Marley waved her hand towards the bed and then dashed into the bathroom.

Rachel frowned. Her heart fluttered with worry, but before she could begin to go through her mental list of all the possible dangerous situations the two could have gotten into, her phone began to ring. She quickly opened her clutch, grabbing for the device, as she heavily plopped herself down on the empty bed, and was relieved to see that it was a FaceTime call from Quinn.

"Quinn! We just got back up to the room. Where are you two? Are you all right?!"

Quinn and Santana's faces were pressed together so they could both be seen on the screen. Their eyes were glazed over from drinking too much, and they wore goofy matching grins as Quinn gave Rachel a little finger-wave and Santana laughed as though something was riotously funny.

"You missed the bouquet toss!" Santana yelled while Quinn blushed and giggled.

"Pardon me?" Rachel asked, bewildered. "Quinn, why are you blushing? What's going on? Please tell me you haven't gotten arrested."

"Rachel ... Rach, we've been texting you..." Quinn slurred as Santana nudged against her with a shoulder, temporarily pushing her off the screen. Then she reappeared, grinning at having successfully retaliated by pushing Santana out of the shot. "I - we - wanted you to be there, but...but we just couldn't wait any longer."

"Be where for what?" Rachel frowned. A bad feeling crept up her spine. "Where are you guys?"

Tina and Marley seated themselves next to Rachel, leaning over to peer at her phone screen, scrunching their bodies together to join the call.

"Heeeey!" Santana waved at them. "Ya'll missed out! We even got a free buffet after. Food for days...oh, and please have your earplugs or headphones firmly in place, because I will be eating the missus for dessert when we return."

"The missus?" Marley's eyes widened. Tina shook her head, equally puzzled. Rachel's free hand flew up to her mouth. "Oh, no. You didn't -"

"Yeah," Quinn said around a toothy grin. Then she grabbed Santana's face and placed sloppy drunken kisses all over it, while Santana howled with laughter. "I'm a Lopez now."

Rachel gasped in shock. The alcohol in her stomach bubbled, but she somehow fought down the rising nausea as Tina and Marley stared at the screen with their mouths hanging open. "No!"

Santana nodded, smiling wide. "I'm a Fabr- hey...scratch that. I'm not taking Quinn's last name." She held up her left hand to show off the ring as Quinn pressed a loud kiss to her cheek.

Tina burst out laughing, barely able to believe what she was seeing. "Oh my God! You guys are crazy!"

"Is this...is this really happening?" Marley asked as she turned to look at a stunned Rachel, whose face wore an expression she could only interpret as a cross between nauseous and appalled.

"Byyeeee!" Santana waved again and abruptly ended the call, leaving the three of them sitting drunk and flabbergasted on the bed that would soon be used, apparently, to consummate the marriage.

Rachel shook her head and groaned, dropping her phone to the carpeted floor. "No good can come of this," she said. Then she ran to the bathroom to be sick as the other girls stared after her.

* * *

 **I apologize for the long wait. I hope you all are still enjoying the story!**


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